The Sharp-Tongued Man（1）
In the dim, hazy bar filled with wild electronic music and entwined bodies, everyone was letting loose, basking in the youth and sweat. Only Yao Si calmly sipped her orange juice, carefully finishing her last piece of work, and packed up her drawing tools. The model, urged by the bar staff, stepped onto the high platform in the center of the dance floor.
Yao Si wasn’t here to party; she was here for work. In fact, if not for work, she would hardly ever step foot in a bar. Over the past few months, she had practically visited every notable bar in the western part of the city. After finishing today's job, she stretched and took another sip of her orange juice. The bar offered her free Budweiser, but her tolerance for alcohol was just too poor.
Still unaccustomed to the bar's noise that made her head throb, she waited until the model finished performing, collected her pay, and quickly exited the bar. As soon as she stepped outside, a cold wind hit her face, making her breath visible in the air. She tightened her coat against the chill. Snow was falling lightly, covering the ground with a thin layer. A young girl selling roses chased after couples, rubbing her hands for warmth.
Today was Valentine’s Day, and sweethearts walked hand in hand everywhere. Yao Si stood alone in the wind and snow, her figure looking desolate.
She, Yao Si, twenty-seven years old, had no job and no man...
She had once experienced a heartbreaking love, if a crush could be considered that. She shook her head to dispel the faint smile in her memory. It had been nine years since she graduated from high school. Had he gotten a girlfriend by now? Was he still struggling in that love triangle? And what about herself? When would she finally crawl out of her own emotional mire?
Whoever said a triangle is the most stable structure clearly wasn't talking about love.
Her head throbbed, her heart ached without end.
Was she the fourth angle? Or just one of many? As Xi Ziqian gazed deeply and painfully at Luo Ke, did he ever notice Yao Si looking at him the same way?
She always thought that if she didn’t think about it, she would forget.
Distracted, she didn't notice the pedestrian light had turned red. She walked on, head down. Suddenly, a blaring horn sounded from her left. She turned towards the glaring headlights, her reaction delayed. She raised a hand to shield her eyes. Tires screeched against the pavement, and the car stopped just two feet away. She broke into a cold sweat.
“Hey, watch where you’re going...” The car window rolled down. The voice inside halted abruptly when the driver saw her pale face. Then, it turned into a harsh, mocking tone. “Well, well, if it isn’t the dumb goose. If you’re looking to get hit because a guy dumped you, at least don’t dirty my car.” The familiar yet strange voice came from her high school deskmate, whom she hadn’t seen in nine years.
Xi Zixiao, Xi Ziqian's cousin. He shoved her into the back seat and restarted the car.
“Dumb goose, it’s not raining today. Why do you look so lost? Got dumped? Twenty-seven and still single, what a pity.” Xi Zixiao mocked through the rearview mirror, seeing Yao Si still in shock.
They hadn’t seen each other in nine years. She looked at him, now a stranger. How did he recognize her so easily? She couldn’t believe they would meet again this way. He used to call her "dumb goose" back in school.
“Don’t worry about it, Mr. Xi.” Yao Si had recovered from her shock. “Surprising, isn’t it? Mr. Xi is alone today. Where are all your ViVis, YoYos, and CoCos?” As the youngest CEO of Xi Group, his romantic escapades were always in the news. Even in high school, he was a notorious playboy.
“Jealous, are you? You poor thing, must be hard being single at twenty-seven. Okay, just for old times' sake, I’ll accompany you for a bit. But no kissing; I don’t want you biting my tongue. Wait, can you even kiss properly? How about this, as an old classmate, I’ll teach you so you won’t be laughed at in the future.” With a mischievous grin, Xi Zixiao leaned closer, one hand on the table, the other on her chair.
“But what if you fall in love with me after one taste? I’m quite picky, you know.” His voice dropped to a low, seductive murmur near her ear, mingling with the jazz from the piano, teasing her senses. Yao Si leaned back and kicked him hard.
“Don’t worry, even if you were the last man on earth, I wouldn’t fall for you. I’d rather be a lesbian.” Ignoring his pained expression, she rushed out of the restaurant. Spending too much time with this man would give her a headache. Yes, she didn’t have a man, she hadn’t kissed anyone, so what?
Why were all the taxis taken? Couples walked past her, and she wanted to curse the sky: Damn it, Valentine’s Day, who cares! Long live being single!
The snow fell heavier, turning into a full-blown storm. She stomped her feet for warmth while trying to hail a cab. Just then, Xi Zixiao's black Lamborghini stopped in front of her. He jumped out and shoved her back into the car, his face dark with anger, either from her kick or her final words.
This sharp-tongued man was always unpredictable, wasn’t he?
When she finally got out of the car and entered her rundown apartment complex, the old lady at the gate looked at her with a face full of curiosity, eager for gossip.
Valentine's Day, a Luxury Car, a Handsome Man, and a Single Woman. These four elements together reek of scandal, and even the old lady at the gate looked at Yao Si differently.
"See you, goodbye," Yao Si thought. Aside from today's one-in-a-million chance encounter, she couldn't think of any other occasion where her humble self would cross paths with someone like him, perched at the top of the social pyramid. The city wasn't large, but people from different social classes seldom met. And if there were another chance, she wished it were his cousin, Xi Ziqian, standing in front of her.
She mused that if today had been Xi Ziqian, it would have been her most memorable Valentine's Day ever. "Driver, send my regards to Luo Ke and Xi Ziqian."
In response, she heard a cold snort and the sound of the car speeding away. She tightened her coat, not noticing when a red rose appeared in her hand, vibrant and trembling in the cold wind, its red petals seemingly ready to freeze and fall off.
It was the first red rose she had ever received, representing perhaps only mockery and pity. She spent thirty yuan on a glass vase to keep it by her bedside. But as the days passed, the rose withered, leaving only a dried stem, which she left standing there, ugly and alone.
